Burgeoning Affections
by darke wulf
Summary: Pairing - Tony/Bruce eventually . Chapter Four - What's a story without a little hurt!Bruce...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

******

_I've decided to turn the initial story into a series showing the development of the relationship between Bruce and Tony. The title is in honor of the Word of the Day that served as the inspiration for the initial piece._

_For those of you that have already read the first chapter, you may want to go back a reread it. I have made quite a few revisions (though the overall theme and most of the dialogue remains the same)._

_This takes place after Bruce has returned to Gotham and taken up as Batman, but before Tony becomes Ironman. _

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_**The first time Tony Stark met Bruce Wayne it was only Pepper's hand firmly grasping the back of his suit coat that kept him from leaping across the table to strangle the bastard.**_

******

"No."

Tony's mouth gaped open as he stared incredulously at the man sitting across the conference room table, dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal gray suit with an indigo blue shirt underneath with a dark navy tie. Tony himself was wearing a black shirt with a patterned black-on-black tie and a terribly expensive dark burgundy suit.

"Are you cra…" A sharp elbow from Pepper into his side aborted Tony's initial reaction. How the hell did she expect him to remain 'professional'? He had just presented Wayne Enterprises with the chance of a lifetime, only to be summarily dismissed by a man who from all accounts needed help tying his shoes in the mornings.

"Listen bas…" Another elbow had him covertly rubbing his side while sighing, "Mister Wayne…." he cast an annoyed look over at Pepper; frequent practice had gifted her with the ability to ignore him even at his most irritated, however, "I'm not sure that you understand just how lucrative an offer Stark Industries is making Wayne Enterprises."

Tony had heard all the gossip about the flighty, naïve, dumb-as-a-rock…but drop-dead gorgeous…Prince of Gotham, but he hadn't actually believed it until that moment. Apparently the gossip had been right. He had to fight to stifle another sigh. He hated dealing with idiots. He should have let Obi handle Wayne. Right. Speak slowly and try to use small words…

"We're talking about a government contract worth a **guaranteed** twelve billion just for the development…" Tony paused, considering…was development too difficult a word? "Err…just for figuring out how to make the robots. That doesn't include the actual sale of the robots themselves…"

"And Stark Industries, not having the resources or infrastructure required for such an endeavor, is so desperate to get Wayne Enterprises on board that you have practically offered us the opportunity to name our cut. I know, Mister Stark," Wayne told him, looking decided unimpressed. Tony bristled at that, no matter how true it was. Needing help was a foreign concept to him, and having to ask someone as obviously inept as Wayne made the words taste even more bitter. "Lucius has explained your offer to me. The answer is still no."

Unbelievable. Wayne was right when he had said the Stark Industries had given Wayne Enterprises the opportunity to pretty much name their price. Tony had hated the necessity but without a qualified partner, they would lose this contract. And here was Wayne, throwing it back in their faces. Fuck, he hated the 'old money' crowd. Always looking down their noses at anyone whose great-great-great grandparents hadn't been born with silver spoons in their mouths.

"How the **hell** can you turn down this offer?! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity!" Pepper's hand moved from Tony's back to his knee where she dug in with her nails. He wondered if she actually expected him to jump across the table and try to hit Wayne, only to realize he was sorely tempted to do just that. Damn if he was going to lose this work just because some idiot who happened to be born rich didn't like his tie…or whatever it was that had caused Wayne to turn him down.

"Tony!" she muttered out of the side of her mouth.

Surprisingly there was no reaction to Tony's outburst from Wayne, though Fox's face tightened up, as if he were fighting down a frown. Tony had no idea why the older man would be upset with him for stating the truth. Surely a man of Fox's intelligence could see the offer for the incredible opportunity it was. He could only imagine how difficult it must be for the man to work for someone as obviously dense as Wayne. Maybe he could convince him to come work for Stark Industries. Fox had done a phenomenal job with Wayne Enterprises, in spite of being hampered by someone like Wayne. What could he do working for a company based on one's intelligence and ability rather than their family tree?

"The contract you presented to us is an offer to assist with the development of robotic fighters with various armament fittings ranging up to and including nuclear devices." Wayne gestured to, and was no doubt reading from – there was no way most of those words were actually in his vocabulary - the set of documents in front of him. Looking back up from the papers, he met Tony's eyes with a hard stare. "Wayne Enterprises does not make weapons. Period."

Tony was honestly left speechless at that. How could this man not understand…didn't feel the rush of adrenaline from winning a contract like this, proving your company to be the best out of all the others that had tried for it? Did the prospect of this challenge, developing equipment that the world had never seen before, not excite him at all?

Snorting, Tony realized whom exactly he was thinking about. Wayne's biggest challenge in life was probably getting his shoes on the right feet in the morning.

Thoroughly disappointed and more than a little disgusted, Tony's erratic temper was lit. He'd have to thank Pepper later for making him read…or reading to him…that synopsis of Wayne's history. "I know what this is about. Tell me, Mister Wayne, are you really willing to let your company miss out on this offer just because you're still hung up on your parents' murder?"

"Tony!" There was nothing muttered about Pepper's reprimand this time. Well too bad. This fucker was about to cost Stark Industries who knows how many billions of dollars just because he had been traumatized as a kid and was now scared of guns. It was ridiculous! How the hell was someone this incompetent even allowed to make important decisions?

Tony moved his gaze from Pepper back to the two men on the other side of the table. Curiously, while Fox was obviously livid, Wayne's reaction was not at all what Tony had expected. Given what he had heard and surmised of the man, Tony had been certain that his last crack would have had Wayne foaming at the mouth. Sure, the guy was frowning at him angrily, but it was almost as if he was playing at being upset. None of the emotions on his face touched his eyes at all.

Thinking back on it, the only genuine emotion Tony could remember seeing in those ice-blue eyes throughout the entire meeting was boredom and impatience. Not exactly what one would expect from an insipid playboy….

Anger gave way to curiosity as Tony considered this new puzzle that had unexpectedly been presented to him.

"I assure you my past has nothing to do with my current decision," Wayne spat out between clenched teeth. "And I would thank you to refrain from mentioning them again. You aren't worthy to speak their names."

Now that the entirety of his attention was focused on the other man, Tony couldn't help but think that it was like watching an actor reciting lines. He'd just thrown Wayne's dead parents in his face and while, if you only looked on the surface he was showing the expected irate reactions, it somehow just didn't **feel** genuine.

"You do know that it wasn't actually the gun that killed them. It was the psycho behind the gun," Tony continued to push, trying to gather more information – his lightening-quick mind analyzing the man across from him, searching for answers.

Twin gasps of outrage followed his comments.

"Mister Wayne, I am **so** sorry…"

"Mister Stark, I think it would be best if you…"

Pepper's apology and Fox's statement of outrage were both interrupted by Wayne. "I would think I should know that better than you, Mister Stark, having been there." Now their spectators shifted their shocked gazes to Wayne, but he continued unperturbed. "As far as your offer goes, I'm sure that Lexcorp or any one of a number of other companies would be more than happy to deal with you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a hair appointment in thirty minutes, so I'll be wishing you a good day."

With that Wayne rose from his chair, a pleasantly vapid smile on his face, holding his right hand towards Tony. Accepting the handshake, Tony met Wayne's eyes, trying to find any real emotion in those so-called windows to the soul. As before, however, they were as opaque as a concrete wall.

Releasing his hand, Wayne made his way around the table toward the door. As he neared Pepper's seat he paused. "Miss Potts, it was a pleasure to meet you," he purred in his deep voice, holding his hand out to her as well. When she placed her hand into his, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it before releasing it again. "Perhaps we can meet again under less…tedious…circumstances."

Pepper blushed - actually blushed! - and replied, "It was nice to meet you as well, Mister Wayne. And I'm sorry for Tony…"

"Please, Miss Potts," Wayne smiled that meaningless smile again, though Pepper seemed impressed, "no apologies are needed, particularly not from you. Though, if you're that concerned about it, I'd be willing to accept dinner tonight in lieu of your apology…"

"Ah," Pepper fumbled, blush deepening, "I…that is…thank you for the offer, Mister Wayne. But we'll be leaving for Malibu as soon as this meeting is wrapped up."

"That's too bad," Wayne replied, straightening back up from leaning closer to Potts, "perhaps next time, then."

"Err…perhaps…"

"Excellent!" he cried, as if he actually expected her to look him up the next time she was in Gotham. "Lucius," he intoned, nodding to the other man, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good day, Mister Wayne," Fox answered, returning the nod from his seat.

With that Wayne swept from the room and two gazes, irate and disbelieving respectively, were focused on Tony.

"Mister Stark, Miss Potts," Fox acknowledged, rising himself. He paused, seeming to consider what exactly he wanted to say as he made his way over to the door, finally settling for, "I hope you have a safe flight back to Malibu."

"Thank you, Mister Fox," Tony replied distractedly, still pondering the mysterious Bruce Wayne. Pepper echoed his thanks. Fox just continued to look at them, clearly unimpressed.

Then he leaned out of the door slightly, calling to one of the receptionists, "Miss Weisman, could you come here for a moment please?"

Tony and Pepper stood up and started gathering their things. A short thirty-something brunette appeared in the doorway.

"Miss Weisman here will show you your way out. I'm afraid I have to run off to another meeting. Good day to you both." No sooner had Fox stopped talking than he was out of the room, briskly making his way down the hallway, deeper into the building.

As they walked towards the building's exit, Tony could **feel** Pepper vibrating from the aggravation of holding back the no doubt epic lecture she was dieing to give him. Still, he couldn't find it in him to regret his actions. Sure, Wayne refused the contract, but that had had nothing to do with himself and everything to do with the fact that it was a weapons contract.

And Tony himself had found a new puzzle to work on, which never would have happened if he hadn't initially let his temper get the better of him. And there was little he enjoyed more than the rush of discovery – of solving a mystery. And Bruce Wayne was looking to be a doozy.

As they crossed the atrium to get to the front doors, Tony took one final look back at the building proper. A flash of blue on the third floor balcony that overlooked the atrium caught his eye. Shifting his gaze, he saw Wayne leaning against the railing, watching them leave. His entire face was completely devoid of any sort of emotion save a look of intense thought that, from his reputation, should have seemed completely foreign on his face.

Surprisingly, Tony found that instead it was the most…right…he had seen Wayne look.

How terribly intriguing…


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

******

_I've decided to turn the initial story into a series showing the development of the relationship between Bruce and Tony. The title is in honor of the Word of the Day that served as the inspiration for the initial piece._

_For those of you that have already read the first chapter, you may want to go back a reread it. I have made quite a few revisions (though the overall theme and most of the dialogue remains the same)._

******

_**The first time Ironman met Batman it was Bruce's turn to need restraining, not that Tony was aware of it being Bruce at the time.**_

******

"What the **hell** are you doing in my city?"

"Fucking hell!" Tony couldn't help but jump in surprise at the sudden angry voice that came from behind him. Turning around, he beheld the infamous Batman in all his gothic glory.

Tony was thankful that the mask hid his disgusted grimace; millions of dollars of equipment was built into his suit, and a man dressed as a giant bat managed to sneak up on him. Back to the drawing board.

Regaining his equilibrium, Tony took in the man before him. Without a doubt, his physical presence was impressive. But that hadn't been why Tony had been so anxious to meet this man. He had to know…to understand how a man that, from all accounts had absolutely no superpowers still managed to be one of the most respected and feared of heroes.

Now, the focus of all that barely contained menace, Tony thought he understood the feared part at least. Such confidence! Tony was fully geared up in his Ironman suit, with all sorts of weapons and powers at his disposal. And yet there stood the Batman, rudely demanding and seemingly fully confident in his ability to handle things should he deem it necessary.

"Um…I was in the neighborhood…" a warning on his internal screens captured Tony's attention as he was answering. Something was heading their way…something incredibly fast…

Tony shifted into a more offensive position, only to stand back down again when a very famous alien came to a sudden halt behind Batman. Those impossibly turquoise eyes would have been incredibly disarming, if Tony hadn't already had blank white lenses pinning him to the wall behind him. Seriously, what kind of man made **Superman** seem nonthreatening by comparison?

"I asked you a question, Stark," was growled out impatiently. Tony shook himself out of his musings and found himself wishing for a glass scotch as the menace radiating from Batman actually seemed to increase. The hand that Superman not-so-casually placed on Batman's shoulder did make him feel a little better. Until he noticed just how warily the Man of Steel was regarding the Bat.

"I…ah…I happened to be in Gotham for business…er, Stark Industries' business, and thought it might be a good opportunity to…introduce myself?" Tony offered, beginning to think that this was a very bad idea.

"I don't care what you do in your role with Stark Industries. But I don't need some bored little rich boy playing superhero in Gotham."

Tony noticed Superman give Batman an odd, pointed look at that. He was too disappointed to pay too much attention to it, however. He had come here to meet and hopefully learn from a legend. Instead he found a pretentious, egotistical jackass.

"Oh come on!" Tony cried, throwing caution to the wind, an ache in his heart. "Maybe I haven't been around as long as you, but I'm just as qualified – if not more so, if it's true that you really are just a regular guy."

Superman was looking at him as if he had grown a second head, but he didn't care. No one ridiculed Tony Stark. In spite of the dangers, he had successfully pulled Stark Industries out of the weapons business. Sure there had been a few rough months at first, but now they were back in the black and steadily making a name for themselves in other technology-related areas. He had put countless hours into designing and training with his suit. He had successfully accomplished three missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. and one on his own since becoming Ironman. He wasn't some second-class superhero, some sidekick around to amuse the big boys.

Batman snorted, obviously unimpressed. "Keep thinking that. I'll be sure to send flowers to your funeral. In spite of what you seem to think, a fancy suit does not make a hero. I don't care what you do back in Malibu but as long as you're in Gotham, the only suit you will be wearing is your business suit."

"I'm not a damned kid! I can take care of myself, and I'll do what I want, when I want, where I want regardless of what **you** say! The last I heard, you hadn't been made King of the Superheroes." Who did this son of a bitch think he was?

"As if I'd want to be responsible for you lot," Batman sneered. "Believe me, the less I see of you all, the happier I am. All I ask is that you stay **out** of my city."

Before Tony could let the bastard know exactly what he thought of that little declaration, Superman broke in. "Look, Ironman, I know he sounds…perhaps a bit presumptuous," the Man of Steel sent a quick look over to Batman at the audible grunt of disdain that followed that, "but it really is for the best that those unfamiliar with Gotham not get involved without Batman. The villains here are uniquely dangerous, beyond what you will probably see anywhere else - at least at the same scale. It's not so much that Batman doesn't want other heroes encroaching in his domain, but…"

"I get tired of rescuing them when they get in over their heads and wind up getting injured, captured and/or brainwashed," Batman interrupted as a sheepish look appeared on Superman's face.

And there went the little bit of calm that Tony had regained during Superman's speech.

Suddenly the night sky was alight; the call going out that Batman's assistance was required. The Dark Knight drew himself up, glancing briefly at his symbol outlined in the sky, before turning to Superman. "I'll take a look at the file you brought over when I get a chance and let you know when I find something."

Then he faced Tony, the full weight of his intimidating presence hitting Tony like an actual blow. "As for you, Stark, listen to what I said. Keep Ironman out of Gotham. It's in your own best interests."

With that he pulled a grappling gun of some sort seemingly out of thin air and took off through the night, flying through the skies without powers or suit.

Tony turned back to Superman, who was still standing on the rooftop watching him with a considering stare. "How the hell do you put up with that bastard?" He honestly couldn't understand why **Superman** of all people – the superhero of superheroes – let that arrogant asshole brush him off like that.

A fond, amused smile came to Superman's face. Tony had the impression that this wasn't the first time he had been asked that question. "I'll admit, Batman can be a little prickly at times…alright, most of the time," he corrected when Tony tilted his head in disbelief, "but he really is a good friend, and a better man. What you said…about him not having powers…frankly, I think the fact that he does what he does, risking his life to protect Gotham even though he is only a 'normal' man, makes him more of a hero, not less."

Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't really believe that! He just blew you off as if you were completely below his notice!"

"Not below his notice, it was just that Gotham was calling," Superman corrected gently. "With Batman, Gotham always takes precedence over anything and everyone else."

"I still think he's an arrogant bastard." Tony folded his arms over his chest, realizing after he did so that he probably looked like the spoiled brat Batman had accused him of being. Dammit! Now the Bat had him questioning himself. This was not the way their meeting was supposed to have gone!

A shrug was his response. "He doesn't let people in easily – or all that willingly. If he had his way, he'd keep the entire world at arms' length…or several arms' lengths. But you won't find a more loyal, dependable person to call friend."

Here Superman paused. "He really is right, you know," he said earnestly, his expression begging Tony to believe him and not take offense. "He could have phrased it better, but you really are better off not involving yourself…involving Ironman…in Gotham until you've got more experience under your belt and have done your research when it comes to the villains you'll find here."

For crying out loud! Even Superman was doubting him. "Not you, too! I'm not some wet-behind-the-ears newbie! I've been at this successfully for six months now. I've fought big, bad, evil men bent on world domination."

"Hold on, I don't doubt your experience or ability," Superman interceded, holding his hands out in a calming motion. "But I'm speaking from experience here."

That pulled up Tony short. "What?"

Superman shrugged, a self-depreciating grin on his face. "When I first met Batman, I'd been Superman for over a year. He gave me the same speech he gave you, about staying out of Gotham. I didn't put much stock in it, but for a while my attention was elsewhere. Then, about a year and a half later there happened to be a lull in activity in Metropolis. After scanning the world for emergencies, a situation in Gotham brought me back here. I ignored Batman and rushed right in as I usually do. And wound up under Poison Ivy's control, at her mercy until Batman was able to free me though not until I nearly killed him."

Tony could only stare in shock at the other man. So Batman really was just looking out for him – in his own overbearing way. The odd pressure in his chest abated a bit as he took in Superman's story. Not that that excused the Bat for treating him like shit…but it did give him hope for the future.

"Yeah, well…he's still an ass."

"Trust me, the attitude grows on you after a while," Superman laughed, putting a friendly hand on Tony's shoulder. Together they stood looking out over the dark city below them, thoughts on her equally dark protector.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

******

Tony had forgotten how intriguing he had previously found Bruce Wayne. He was magnanimously willing to cut himself some slack on it; he figured that near-death experiences and life-changing epiphanies were apt to make anyone slightly forgetful.

Finding himself once again sitting across the table from the other man, however, it didn't take long for his previous ponderings to return. He and Pepper – along with his top R and D team - were once more at Wayne Enterprises, this time in front of the entire Board, to make a presentation for a new proposed joint venture. After giving his typical peace-on-earth, goodwill-towards-men spiel Tony had sat down and let his team take over the presentation.

This left him free to concentrate of the members of Wayne Enterprises, and he soon became enthralled, most atypically for him, in watching one Bruce Wayne.

Tony still found himself comparing Wayne's performance to watching an actor, but now the other man was obviously far more experienced and comfortable with the character he was playing.

And it was a truly masterful performance. If Tony hadn't noted Wayne's irregular behavior at their previous meeting, when he was obviously less in harmony with his role, he probably would never have picked up on the now incredibly subtle inconsistencies that reassured him that he hadn't imagined Wayne's duplicity.

Still, they were still there, if one knew to look. The slight tightening around the mouth when one of his Board members made a joke at his expense, assuming it would be too cerebral for him to understand. The boredom in his eyes as during the presentation – not the boredom of one who neither understood nor cared about what was being presented but the boredom of one who already knew everything that was being discussed, and in far more detail.

It made Tony glad he had made the trip, regardless of whether their proposal was accepted. Lately all his projects were either of the 'save-the-world' or 'save-the-company' variety. It would be nice to have something to work on just for fun again.

Frankly, he appreciated having something to take his mind off of the disastrous meeting with Batman the previous night. Though meeting Superman was pretty cool, he had to admit. Tony had had high hopes for a relationship between Ironman and Batman, however. It was obvious from his modus operandi that the man was incredibly intelligent with a logical, deductive mind. And his toys! They were enough to make Tony drool.

Beyond that, it would have been nice to be able to talk to another non-powered hero. Sure, Tony had the suit, but underneath it he was still a regular guy – albeit one with an arc reactor mounted in his chest.

It was odd for Tony to desire a bond. He had never cared much for other people. Sure, he could schmooze with the best of them, and he had no qualms in making use of the beautiful women who threw themselves at him. But when it came to actually trying to get to know a person – to develop a relationship beyond the casual, he had never seen the point.

After Obadiah's betrayal Pepper was the only true friend he had, and he had been fine with that for a while. The more time he spent as Ironman, however, the more he found himself wishing for someone to talk to who would understand what he was going through - trying to balance being a hero with his normal life. Someone to whom he could go when continuously facing the worst of humanity got to be too much.

He had hoped that in Batman he might find that companionship, but that was obviously not going to happen. The other hero had made it quite clear that he had no interest in developing a relationship of any sorts.

Polite clapping brought Tony out of his reverie.

"Thank you for your time and attention," his lead presenter was saying, nodding his head to the group. "Please feel free to ask any questions you might have at this time."

An involved…and incredibly boring… Q and A period followed. Looking at his watch, Tony had to stifle a sigh as he noticed it was nearly six o'clock. He supposed he only had himself to blame – he had been the one to insist on the afternoon meeting. But he **hated** mornings…

Forcing his thoughts away from his bat-musings, Tony turned his attention back onto Wayne. He was relatively certain the man had just barely aborted an eye roll at a particularly dense question from one of the Wayne Enterprises' Board Members.

More and more curious…

Acting on impulse, Tony straightened in his seat and turned to fully face Wayne, who was sitting at the head of the large table. "Mister Wayne, what do you say you and I leave the rest of these boring details to our respective teams and head out to grab some dinner?"

A shocked silence met his words.

Pepper looked at him in horror, muttering out of the side of her mouth, "Tony, what are you **doing**?"

He ignored her, however, keeping his eyes on Wayne who was studying him with a blank expression on his face.

Abruptly a vapid smile appeared, and the other man turned to his right where Lucius Fox was sitting. "That sounds like a wonderful plan! I never did get lunch today; I could certainly go for some food. Lucius, can you and the others handle things from here and just fill me in on the details later?"

Fox gave an indulgent – though suspiciously knowing – smile to Wayne. "Of course, Bruce. We don't have much more to discuss today at any rate."

"Excellent!" was the cheerful reply. "I'll check in with you tomorrow then to find out what we missed."

"That would be fine," Fox agreed, warmth suffusing his face as he regarded the other man.

With that Wayne stood up and moved towards the door. Tony followed suit and made his way over to meet him. Wayne opened the door and motioned Tony trough it, "Shall we, Mister Stark?"

Tony replied with one of his own carefree grins as the two left the meeting room. "Let's shall."

******

The two men wound up at a nearby five-star restaurant with a superb view of the Gotham skyline. The staff obviously knew Wayne, and they were seated in a moderately private booth upon arrival. After placing his drink order, Tony began to peruse the menu until he felt eyes on him. Glancing up, he found himself staring into disturbingly piercing blue eyes, though a vacuous expression masked the rest of the face. Those penetrating eyes told another story.

At that moment the waitress returned with their drinks, a glass of red wine for Wayne and one of scotch for himself, and to take their orders. As soon as she left, Wayne turned his gaze back onto Tony, casually swirling the wine in his glass.

"So just what is it you're hoping to weasel out of me, Mister Stark?"

"Tony, please, and I'm not sure what you mean," Tony replied, unwilling to incriminate himself unless the jig was really up.

"Alright, Tony," Wayne agreed. "Then please, call me Bruce. And what I'm referring to is the fact that the only time businessmen – be they partners, potential partners, or adversaries – ask to go speak with me alone is when they are tired of dealing with Lucius and have decided to try to take advantage of me to get what they want," he explained, a self-depreciating grin curling his lips.

"I hate to break it to you," he continued, shrugging his shoulders as if in apology, "but I've got clear orders from Lucius to not agree to anything that he hasn't ok'ed first."

Tony regarded the other man over the rim of his glass, trying to discern what was actually running through his head. "Then it's fortunate that I have absolutely no intention of trying to get you to agree to anything."

Honest surprise colored Wayne's response. "You don't?"

"Not at all," Tony shrugged, taking a sip from his own glass. "I'm fairly confident that your Board will agree to my Company's proposal. It's sound, and both sides stand to profit a great deal – and it has nothing to do with weaponry." The last was added with a depreciating smile of his own as Tony tilted his head and glass towards Wayne in acknowledgement.

The look of surprise on Wayne's face increased. Tony thought he could detect a hint of suspicion underneath, but couldn't say for certain. The majority of the discrepancies he was seeing in Wayne's façade were so subtle, he found himself wondering if he was imagining some of them. "Then if you don't mind my asking, why are we having lunch?"

Tony shrugged and decided to be blunt; it was what he was best at, after all. "You intrigue me, Mister Wayne."

"I'm afraid you're reading the wrong sort of papers, Tony," Wayne interjected apologetically.

"Not like that, I assure you," Tony chuckled. "Not that you're unattractive. But I try not to get involved with business partners…at least not so early in the partnership. No, it's your acting that I find so fascinating."

Tony was certain that he hadn't imagined the guarded look that flashed across Wayne's face at that. "What are you talking about?"

"Come now, Bruce. You're the one people think is the idiot, not me. I admit, you're pretty good at hiding it, but it's not really that **hard** to see that you're not nearly as superficial and obtuse as you pretend to be."

A shallow laugh was his response. "Why thank you - I think. Though I have to admit, I wasn't aware that it seemed as if I were 'pretending' as you say. I do have to ask…"

A sudden alarm-like ringing interrupted whatever Bruce had been going to say. Tony noted that the other man stiffened immediately, expression freezing on his face for a moment before an apologetic grimace was put in place. "Sorry, Tony, one second."

With that Bruce pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, pressed a button and put it to his ear.

"Yes, Alfred? Yes, I'm having dinner with Tony Stark tonight….Sorry I didn't call to let you know earlier; it was a spur of the moment thing. Ah, I forgot all about that. Could you please give him my apologies….yes, alright…yes, I'll be home in a few minutes…alright, Alfred, thank you…"

Bruce disconnected the call and replaced the phone. "Sorry about that, Tony. My butler was just inquiring as to my delay, as I had had a previous engagement scheduled for this evening. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut out early on you."

"No problem, Bruce. I understand."

"How long are you in town? Perhaps we can reschedule?"

"Actually, I had planned to leave tomorrow. Unfortunately the business doesn't run itself, you know."

"Actually, I have to admit that I don't. Lucius does a wonderful job of keeping Wayne Enterprises running without me having to bother with it too much. You should try to find someone to help you with that."

Pain cut into Tony as he was reminded of Obadiah once more and he grimaced. "Actually, after what happened with my last CEO I'm not inclined to go down that road again in the near future."

Wayne at least had the grace to look sheepish. "Ah, yes…sorry, I wasn't thinking…"

Tony waved his left hand negligently while taking a long drink of scotch, draining his glass. "Don't worry about it. No harm done."

"Thank you," Bruce said, smiling. Grabbing his wallet out of his pocket, he pulled out two hundred dollars and placed it on the table – more than enough to cover their tab and a generous tip. Then Bruce reached out towards Tony with his right hand. "It was a pleasure getting to talk with you again, Tony. I really am sorry to have to take off so soon, but I'm already very late."

"It was nice talking with you as well, Bruce," Tony politely returned, shaking the other man's hand and absently noting his rather weak grasp. "We'll have to meet up again soon. You don't have to get the tab, though."

"Please, I insist. It's the least I can do, for cutting out on you. And it is my town."

"Fair enough," Tony acquiesced, not wanting to make a scene. "I've got the next time, though."

"It's a deal," Bruce agreed amiably, rising from his seat. "I hope that you have a safe flight back to Malibu."

Motion in the corner of his eye drew Tony's attention to the waitress who was approaching their table, their entrees in hand.

Bruce noticed Tony's moment of distraction and turned to face the young women. "Ah, Shelly, I'm afraid I'm going to have to run. Could you please give my food to Joe and tell him I said hello?"

The woman smiled warmly at Bruce, not even blinking at the strange request. "Of course, Mister Wayne. I hope that we'll be seeing you again soon."

"Undoubtedly," he grinned, moving off towards the exit with a quick over-the-shoulder wave.

Seeming to forget entirely about the plates she carried, the waitress turned to watch in obvious appreciation as Wayne moved gracefully towards the exit.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Tony called out to the still enthralled woman, who shook herself out of her stupor at his words.

The waitress blushed at being caught but continued to his table, placing his food in front of him. "I'm sorry, sir. Here's your lamb. Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes," he replied, motioning towards his empty glass, "another scotch, please."

"Of course, sir, " she replied, picking up the glass.

Before she could leave, Tony asked, "Who's Joe?"

"I'm sorry what?" she returned, confused.

"Bruce asked that you give his dinner to Joe. I was just wondering who the lucky guy was."

Understanding bloomed on her face. "Oh! Joe – he works here. He's autistic, and the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. He got the job here thanks to the Wayne Foundation – they have a group that works to provide job training and placement for people with disabilities. Mister Wayne makes it a point to talk with Joe whenever he comes in."

And yet another layer of Bruce Wayne was revealed. "Ah. That's certainly very nice of him."

The woman just shrugged. "That's Mister Wayne for you. I'll be right back with your drink." So saying she made her way to the bar, checking on several tables on the way.

Tony slowly began eating his meal – Wayne had made a good choice in restaurant, the lamb was phenomenal – and contemplated what he had learned about Bruce Wayne that day. It admittedly hadn't been as fruitful an interrogation as he had hoped, but he did feel he had gained a slightly better understanding of the man.

Though no closer to understanding **why**, he was now certain beyond doubt that there was far more to Wayne than he let people see. Tony had to wonder if it had something to do with the other man's parents. When researching Wayne Enterprises he had come across several references to Thomas and Martha Wayne. It was obvious that even now, so many years after their deaths, the two were held up on a pedestal higher than what any living person could hope to match.

It was also just as obvious that no matter what Bruce did – and Tony had surprisingly found that Bruce Wayne was actually even more involved in charities and trying to better Gotham than his parents had been – the people of Gotham always found him lacking when compared to said parents.

Had Bruce gotten tired of not being able to live up to that those unreasonable expectations and finally decided to just give people what they seemed to want, only letting in those people who proved they could see him for himself? There certainly were fewer comparisons being made to his parents since he had returned from his extended holiday and assumed his current persona. Of course, there were the occasional pieces - particularly around the date on which the Wayne's had died - bemoaning how disappointed the two would be in their progeny.

Tony took another drink of scotch, letting his thoughts tumble unchecked through his brain - random musings coming and going, patterns forming and unraveling again. While some of his hypothesis had a certain ring of truth to it, his gut was telling him that there was more to it. There was something he was missing…something that would bring all the pieces together…

Whatever it was, he knew he would figure it out eventually. A genuine smile on his face, he continued to enjoy his meal while outside, unknown to Tony, the Bat-signal illuminated the evening sky.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

******

It wasn't often that Tony Stark found himself feeling out of his depth. It was even less often that he was willing to acknowledge such situations. If anyone had been of the mind to ask him at that moment, however, he would have had absolutely no problems admitting that he was well and truly overwhelmed – after which he would have begged them to **do something** because Bruce was bleeding and he couldn't think straight and dammit where was that ambulance!

Sure, since becoming Iron Man and taking up with SHIELD he had been required to take a long, boring series of first aid classes, but this was beyond anything that he had been trained to deal with.

******

They had been at the press conference to announce the first of hopefully many joint ventures between Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises. Given Tony's public alter-ego, security had actually been more substantial than it ordinarily would have been, but apparently it still hadn't been enough.

As they began walking towards the stairs leading down from the podium Bruce had suddenly jumped at Tony, shoving the other man to the side and causing him to fall gracelessly to the ground, seriously injuring his wrist in the process. When Tony turned to inquire of the other man what exactly his problem was the words wound up lodged in his throat – along with his heart and stomach by the feel of it.

Lying on the ground, grabbing at his chest with a hand red with blood was Bruce Wayne. Tony might not have heard the shot, but he knew what a gunshot victim looked like when he saw one.

Tony stood frozen for a few seconds by the horror of the site. He quickly returned to his senses, however, and lunged over to Bruce's side. "Somebody, call 911!" he shouted as he gently put one hand on Bruce's shoulder. As he looked down on Bruce's chest his face paled as he took in the amount of blood that was leaking from the wound.

Relief ran through his body, turning his muscles to gelatin, when he saw pain-hazed blue eyes regarding him. "What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, a sudden burst of anger at the injured man running through him.

"Se…eemed like a…good idea…at time…" Bruce quipped, forcing his reply from between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, well, don't do it again," Tony demanded, absently smoothly strands of dark hair back from Bruce's sweaty forehead, "I'm the superhero around here."

A raspy chuckle was his only reply.

Then, finally, Tony heard the welcome siren wail of an approaching ambulance. "Hang on, Bruce," Tony murmured, squeezing the other man's should, "help's on the way."

******

After several minutes of yelling, threatening and begging Tony was ensconced in the back of the ambulance with Bruce and the EMTs working on him. One technician grabbed a pair of scissors and cut away Bruce shirt so they could begin treatment on the wound. Tony unconsciously licked his lips as inch after inch of chiseled torso was revealed, though his enjoyment was dampered by the blood smeared over the pale skin. While the EMT applied pressure to the wound in the hopes of slowing the blood flow Tony perused Bruce further, coming up short when he noted the blanket of scars that decorated Bruce's skin.

"_What the hell?"_ he thought to himself, moving closer to Bruce without realizing it only to be jerked to his senses when one of the technicians gave him a not so gentle push back in his seat. Tony shot the culprit an irritated scowl, only to receive the same in return. He let out a huff of annoyance as he leaned back on the bench, folding his arms over his chest. When the side of one arm came in contact with the hard edge of his arc reactor the reminder of his own scars brought his mind back to Bruce's. He thoughtfully cataloged them as they were revealed, considering possible causes based on the appearance of each - all the while absently tracing the edge of his reactor with his fingers.

******

As he was waiting for word on Bruce, who had been taken into surgery, Tony's guilt-ridden thoughts were interrupted by a vaguely familiar voice.

"Now see here, Madam, I am the closest thing that Master Bruce has to family and I will thank you to keep that in mind. If you check his records, you will find that I am in fact listed as his next of kin as well as his primary emergency contact."

Tony looked over to the nurses' station to see Bruce's butler – Eldwin?... Alden?...

"Easy, Alfred. I'm sure that Nurse Cuttitte will be more than happy to update you on Bruce's condition now that she's aware of the situation."

Tony took a long look at the large man who stood behind Alfred and held a calming hand on the elderly man's shoulder. He too looked familiar, though Tony couldn't remember where he'd seen him. He had a gentle look on his bespectaled face and was clearly well built under the ill-fitting, poorly made suit he wore.

Tony watched as a look of despair passed over Alfred's face as the nurse filled them in on Bruce's status. He found himself feeling guilty once again. He hadn't thought twice about anyone else who might have been interested in Bruce's condition. Here he was, with no real connection to Bruce but money enough to smooth his way into the information he wanted while this man who obviously loved Bruce a great deal had had to fight and threaten his way through.

Movement caught his eye and interrupted his thoughts and he turned to watch the two men walk into the waiting room. He could tell the instant they noticed him, both froze momentarily before changing direction and heading his way.

"Mister Stark," Alfred greeted, nodding his head, "have you heard any word on Master Bruce?"

Tony shook his head as he replied. "I'm afraid not. I know they took him into surgery, but that's about it."

"Indeed. It seems that the employees are quite reluctant to release anything that would be considered helpful information."

"Come on, Alfred. They're doing what they can. I'm sure Bruce will be fine. You know he's too stubborn to let this stop him."

At that Tony felt an inexplicable wave of jealousy run through him. Who was this loser, to think he knew Bruce so well. What was he to Bruce, that he was so familiar with Alfred? How…

"Oh, I have been remiss. Mister Stark, this is Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, a friend of Master Bruce."

So that's where he'd recognized the man from. Kent's work had actually impressed Tony with its unbiased yet probing manner, in spite of him generally having very little positive to say about Stark Industries or Tony himself – granted that was before Tony had seen the error of his ways as it were.

From his articles he'd judged Kent to be a just, if naïve man – one of the saps determined to do the right thing and make the world a better place. Though Tony himself could technically be classed as one of those saps now…

"Master Clark was in town to cover Master Bruce's press conference. When Master Bruce was… injured… he inquired as to the hospital to which he was being taken and then alerted me to what had transpired. He was kind enough to transport me here."

'Master Clark' was it – obviously the guy was a bit closer than a casual acquaintance…

"It was the least I could do, Alfred," Kent spoke with such sincerity that it made Tony's teeth ache. And why the hell did the man look so guilty?

"And it is very much appreciated, Sir," Alfred assured. "Now, however, it seems the only thing to do is wait for the doctors to deign to update us as to Master Bruce's condition."

At that Kent's face took on a strange expression, as if he were listening to voices that no one else could hear. He froze that way for a moment before shaking his head and turning towards Alfred, gently leading the man to a group of seats in a corner of the room. "You're right I'm afraid, Alfred. I'm sure they won't take too much longer to tell us something, though…"

Tony raised an eyebrow as he saw Kent lean over and whisper in Alfred's ear for several moments. The expression of concern hadn't left either man's face, though they both seemed less tense than they had just moments before. How strange…

Tony spent the next several hours sneaking sips from his flask and watching Kent seeming listening to the voices in his head as he waited to hear how Wayne's surgery had gone.

Really, how could Bruce even consider being friends with such a weirdo?


	5. Chile

Hey All – sorry for the fake chapter, but this seemed like the best way to contact the most people.

I've got my services up for bid over at the Help_Chile liverjournal community.

One story, at least 2500 words. You pick the fandom, general plot and (if applicable) pairing. Bidding starts at $5.

Please see my homepage (link above) for more details and links to the auction and community.


	6. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

******

Tony was sitting on the bed in his hotel room - back propped against a wall of pillows, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles - reading one of his favorite technological journals when the call came in from the hospital.

He hadn't stayed waiting for Bruce to awaken at the hospital itself, but it had been a near thing. Only Pepper's determined nagging, combined with his own confused discomfort over why exactly he so strongly felt the need to stay by Bruce's bedside, had gotten him to leave. He had insisted on arranging to be called as soon as Bruce was awake and able to have visitors, however.

"Stark. Oh! He is? That's excellent news. Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for calling. I'll be right down." With that Tony disconnected from the call and set his cell phone on the bed beside him. Leaning over, he picked up the hotel phone and dialed the front desk.

"Yes, this is Tony Stark in room 3501. Could you arrange for a town car to the hotel? Yes, I'll be ready in about twenty minutes. Thanks."

Rising from the bed, he quickly stripped off the sweat pants and ratty MIT t-shirt he had been wearing, replacing them with chocolate pinstriped slacks and a burnt ochre dress shirt. Forgoing a tie, he left the top three buttons of his shirt open. He pulled the jacket that matched his slacks from the closet and threw it over one arm as he left the bedroom, grabbing his phone from the bed on his way to the living room of the suite.

Pepper looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, pouring over something apparently incredibly engrossing on her laptop, when he entered the room.

"The hospital just called. Wayne's awake and accepting guests. I've got a car waiting for us."

Rather than gathering her things in preparation to leave Pepper instead remained seated and regarded Tony with a long, studious gaze.

"Why are you doing this, Tony?"

"What, visiting Wayne? The man did just take a bullet for me, Pepper. I figure wishing him well is the least I can do."

Pepper frowned at him in consternation. "There's more to it than that. I haven't seen you this… I'd almost say obsessive… since you first came back from Afghanistan."

"Look, what do you want me to say? " Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I'm just trying to understand, Tony. It isn't like you to be so concerned with a practical stranger."

"Don't hold back, what do you really think about me?"

"Tony… I didn't mean it like that and you know it. You're a terribly caring and generous man, but you hardly know Wayne."

Tony's arm fell to his side and his eyes turned down to the floor. "I guess…" he paused, then shrugged his shoulders and finished his thought, "I guess I just want to know why."

"Why?" Pepper asked, confused.

"Why Wayne was willing to risk his own life for mine," he explained, looking back up to meet Pepper's inquiring eyes. "You know what kind of guy he is. Nothing he's ever done or said hinted at a person that would be willing to do something like this. It's a mystery, and you know how much I hate not knowing things."

"Is it really so hard to believe that he just didn't want to see someone get shot in front of him again?" Pepper inquired, pursing her lips. "You know what happened to his parents…"

"I just… I can't explain it Pepper," Tony interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't really understand it myself. But something is telling me that I **need** to find out just why Wayne pushed me out of the way of that bullet. There's something there… something important…"

Pepper's unblinking eyes met his own for a long moment. The sudden clicking of her laptop as she closed it broke their standoff, and she looked down to put on her shoes.

"Right. Let's get going then."

******

The surprise on Wayne's face was obvious to Tony when he burst into the other man's hospital room. Not that he blamed the guy. He'd be surprised to see Wayne visiting him were their positions reversed. Still, there was something gnawing at Tony, insisting that this was too important to just blow off as was his usual m.o. And one thing Tony had learned as he gained experience fighting crime was to trust in his instincts.

Besides, it was kind of fun to fluster Wayne.

"Greetings, Bruce! How are you feeling today? On the good meds, I hope?"

He could practically _see_ the cloud of irritation surrounding Wayne as the other man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling – counting to ten perhaps? – before replying.

"Tony, what are you doing here?"

Tony affected a wounded look, bringing his right hand up to cover the arc reactor and pouting in what he had been told was a most irresistible manner. "Now is that any way to greet the man who's been loyally standing at your bedside for days? Gotham isn't exactly the most happening of neighborhoods, no offense. I almost died of boredom waiting for you to wake up. And then your heroic sacrifice would have been for nothing."

"Tony…"

"Speaking of," Tony continued, not bothering to listen to whatever it was that Wayne had to say, "perhaps you could answer a question that's been burning up my curiosity the last two days?"

Tony moved closer to the bed. Leaning forward, bracing his hands on the bedside table, he leaned until his face was only inches from Wayne's.

"What the hell were you thinking jumping in front of a bullet like that?!" Tony shouted, not caring who heard him now that he finally had an outlet for the helpless frustration that assailed him whenever he thought of the other man bleeding on the ground from a bullet meant for him. "You're no hero, Bruce. Fuck, you're idea of strenuous activity is probably seeing how many women you can have sex with in one night. I'm the one who's supposed to protect people from the big bad villains of the world."

A cold, emotionless mask slid over Wayne's face, bringing Tony up short as he was hit with a strange sense of déjà vu. He knew the other man wasn't as foppish as rumors would have people believe, but it still was disconcerting to see just how off the rumors were up close. He had to believe it was the drugs that were making the break in Wayne's mask so obvious – even when they had first met the other man hadn't been so transparent.

"Were you wearing armor?" The icy question interrupted Tony's racing thoughts.

"No, but…"

"Then I fail to see how my actions were unnecessary," Wayne shrugged, as if that was the end of the conversation. As if.

"Look, Bruce," Tony verbally stumbled, straightening and taking a step away from the bed, his hands coming up to flutter as he spoke. "It's just... I'm Ironman… I'm not supposed to need to be saved by…"

"By what? By a billionaire playboy?" Bruce asked with a sneer. "Is that it?"

"Of course not! It's just…"

"Are you disgusted by the fact that someone like me saved your life?"

"No! I…"

"Do you hate owing your life to someone so worthless?"

"No, dammit! Would you let me fucking talk!"

"Tony," Bruce once again interrupted, his voice the same toneless calm it had been throughout, "I realize that we don't know each other very well. I'm the first to admit that I'm not even close to being the man my Father was. But if you think I could just stand by and watch while someone was shot in front of me… I'm not _that_ despicable a person."

"Bruce, that's not what I meant…" Tony disputed helplessly, not understanding how the conversation got so far out of his control.

"Good afternoon, Mister Wayne! How are we feeling today?"

Tony would have happily strangled the overly cheerful doctor that interrupted him, shooing him from the room so he could attend to Wayne.


	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment. _

_Sorry for the delay. This chapter proved difficult, plus I've gotten sucked into the Star Trek fandom - it's like a black hole..._

* * *

Three days after Tony had seen Bruce in his hospital room saw Tony still bothered by their conversation. He'd spent a lot of his time in his hotel room, working on random projects as he stewed over everything that was said, how he should have handled the situation, and exactly what he would say to Bruce when he saw him again. He also managed to squeeze in time for a handful of meetings with various business partners that he didn't often get to see in person.

Late on the afternoon of the third day, Tony and Pepper were riding back to their hotel after one such meeting. Pepper was working on her laptop, while Tony gazed out the window at the passing scenery.

"You know what? Fuck it."

"Tony?" Pepper questioned warily as she looked up from her computer.

Ignoring her, Tony pressed the button that lowered the glass separating them from the driver. "Airport, now."

The driver looked startled for only a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, boss."

"Tony…"

"I'm sick of this place," Tony continued, replacing the glass barrier. "It's so damn depressing. Time to head back home."

"But our luggage…"

"We can have the hotel send it. Or we can just buy more when we get back to Malibu. Call the airport and tell them I want my jet ready in fifteen minutes."

"It's thirty minutes to the airport from here, Tony."

"Then they'll be ready for us when we get there."

"Tony…"

Pepper's rejoinder was interrupted by an explosion that rocked the car, bringing their argument to a halt.

"What the fucking hell was that?" Tony asked, peering intently out of the car window. Lowering the privacy barrier again, he asked "Do you have any clue what's going on?"

"No, sir," the driver replied, moving to turn on the radio, "I can check, though."

Immediately the car was filled with a news bulletin, reporting someone called Mister Freeze of all things breaking into a research lab.

"Stop the car," Tony ordered, reaching for the briefcase that held the superlight version of his armor.

"Tony, you can't mean to…"

"Why not? I'm a hero, he's a villain – stopping people like him is kind of my thing now."

"But Batman…"

"Why should he have all the fun? Take her to the airport. I'll meet you there. Toodles!"

"Tony!"

Tony shut the car door in Peppers face and stepped onto the sidewalk. Placing the briefcase down, he activated it and Iron Man was soon racing through the air.

He arrived at the scene of the crime just in time to see Superman tying up several henchmen, using what appeared to be the remains of a nearby bus stop.

Task finished, Superman turned and lifted off, slowly floating up until he hovered next to Iron Man. "Hello again, Mister Stark," he greeted with a polite smile on his face.

Tony could only gawk. "Superman? What the hell? Where's Batman?"

A brief look of discomfort flew across the Kryptonian's face and he straightened slightly, his demeanor becoming less friendly and more business-like. "Batman's otherwise occupied. I'm covering for him at the moment."

"Otherwise occupied? Since when has the Bat let anything occupy him besides Gotham? And how the hell did you convince him to let you 'cover for him' when it came to Gotham?"

"I'm sorry, but that's not something I'm at liberty to discuss."

"Why am I not surprised? Well, since you've obviously got things well in hand, I'm going to continue on my way. If you see Batman, let him know I'll be safely out of his city within the hour."

"Mister Stark, please don't be too upset with Batman. I know he can seem cold at times…"

Tony snorted at what he considered to be a phenomenal understatement. "Don't worry, it's not just Batman. This whole city is on the wrong side of crazy as far as I can tell. I've had nothing but trouble since I got here…"

"Then get out." Batman's low growl came from behind him, and Tony felt his anger impossibly skyrocket even higher at once again being caught unaware by the other hero.

He spun around, missing Superman's expression of shocked disbelief. "What?"

"I said," the Dark Knight replied from his perch on a nearby roof, voice dripping with scorn, "get out. I told you before you're not wanted here. If Gotham is so terrible in your eyes then get out."

"Br… Batman, what are you doing here?" Superman asked incredulously, temporarily interrupting the standoff between the other two.

The Bat's derisive glare moved to the Kryptonian. "Gotham needed me. Where else would I be?"

"But you're… but… you shouldn't be here! I told you I would take care of things."

"I never agreed to let you do so."

"Your stubbornness is going to get you killed some day, B. Come on, let's get you back." Superman moved closer to Batman as if to pick him up. Tony just looked on, not able to believe he was seeing Batman being… chided… treated almost as if he was a misbehaving child.

"That won't be necessary." Batman took a sudden step backwards to avoid Superman's grasp, then gave a low grunt as his upper body seemingly involuntarily started to curl in around his chest for a brief instant before he forced himself to straighten.

It took Tony several moments to realize that the other man was apparently injured and in pain. He was willing to cut himself some slack. In the admittedly brief exposure he'd had to the Batman, he'd come across as completely indestructible. Sure, Tony knew intellectually that the other hero was a "normal" human – or at least without superpower - in his opinion, the Batman was anything but normal.

"Are you alright?" he found himself asking, shocked by the depth of his sudden concern.

Batman's less than pleased gaze shifted from Superman to Tony. "I'm fine," he barked, straightening his posture immediately.

Suddenly Batman threw himself to the side, but not in time to avoid a blue-white blast of energy that wound up hitting his legs as he tried to leap to safety. The beam expanded upon contact, leaving in its wake a layer of ice that cocooned him from the chest down.

Momentum working against him, he started to plummet to the ground several stories below. Tony found himself frozen in place as his mind tried to catch up to what had just happened. As he watched, Batman pulled out some sort of grappling gun and aimed at a nearby building.

Superman was already there, however. He grabbed Batman in his arms while, practically simultaneously, using his heat vision to disarm… a blue-skinned man wearing a fish tank on his head?

Shaking his head, Tony became even more determined to get the hell out of Gotham as soon as possible. He lowered himself to the ground, landing near Superman who, after re-securing the freak who had attacked with a handy street sign, was now de-thawing Batman's legs.

"I thought you'd had taken care of things?" Batman snorted derisively, arms crossed over his chest.

"I did!"

"Obviously."

"Look, B, I'm sorry…"

Disgusted by Superman debasing himself apologizing to such a bastard, Tony decided to cut in. "Well, as much fun as all this was, I have had more than enough. Superman, it was a pleasure. Batman, it wasn't, but I'm fairly certain you're already aware of that."

"You're still heading back to Malibu, then," Superman inquired as the last of the ice fell away from Batman.

"Yep. Obviously, I'm not needed here – Batman clearly has things well in hand."

Batman didn't even look over at Tony, in spite of his not so subtle taunt. Instead, moving with purpose, he stalked over to aquarium head and checked his bonds, going so far as to pull out some sort of cabling from his utility belt and secure the guy's hands behind his back on top of the street sign that Superman had wrapped around him.

Tony shook his head, no longer surprised by Batman's rude behavior. "Later," he called out, waving briefly to Superman as he made his exit.

Just before he got out of his natural hearing range, he heard Superman speak, "Could you have possibly been any more rude, B? Iron Man only wanted to help."

Finding the thought of Batman being scolded like a misbehaving toddler amusing, Tony used the suit to continue listening to the conversation he was leaving behind.

"I'm no babysitter," Batman replied. What sounded like a gun retort had Tony turning back towards the crime scene in time to see Batman swing up onto a roof, Superman following in his wake. With that, he continued his trip to the airport to meet up with Pepper – who by now was undoubtedly ready to track him down and drag him off by the ear.

"Stark is still looking at this as one big game. He only trains when he gets bullied into it by SHIELD. He doesn't study. He came to Gotham completely unprepared – he didn't bother to learn anything about the criminals or general situation before arriving. I'd be surprised if he could even pick the Joker out of a lineup. That's a good way to get killed; you know that."

Tony was more than a little shocked by Batman's apparent knowledge of SHIELD. By Superman's lack of surprise, he was obviously aware of the organization as well. That was more than a little interesting. The rest of Batman's analysis almost had him turning around to give him a piece of his mind. He didn't consider being a hero a game. And so what if he wasn't a gym rat? He didn't need to work out; that's what the suit was for, for fuck's sake!

Behind him, the conversation continued. "Are you sure you're all right? That fall couldn't have been good for your injury."

"I'm fine. You prevented me from having to strain anything too badly." Tony frowned as he recalled that Batman had indeed been injured when he'd shown up. In spite of his terrible attitude, Tony hoped he wasn't too badly hurt. As stubborn as he was, he was likely to get himself killed by pushing himself too hard.

"So how did you get the hospital to release you already? There's no way you're actually healed enough to justify them letting you go."

"You'd think by now you'd realize just how accommodating people can become with the right motivation. Boyscout."

Superman let out a laugh, and Tony – even as his mind began processing this new information, rapidly making sense of hundreds of tells and pieces of conversation which were now all coming together to form one incredible, unbelievable whole – marveled at how at ease he was in dealing with Batman.

"So you bribed them."

"I pointed out how financially beneficial it would be for the hospital to have a billionaire on their side."

Tony came to a sudden stop in midair, though he didn't realize it, too much in shock – though not from Batman's reply, which he had actually expected – but from the epiphany that had just struck him.

"No fucking way."


End file.
